


watching you without me

by kitseybarbours



Series: kinktober 2020 [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, The Magnus Archives Season 3, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Male Character, Voyeurism, compulsion kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26817658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitseybarbours/pseuds/kitseybarbours
Summary: The phone calls come more often than the statements, and they feed a different kind of hunger.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: kinktober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950361
Comments: 9
Kudos: 67





	watching you without me

**Author's Note:**

> Jon is trans; words used for his genitalia are 'cock' and 'cunt.' Title from the Kate Bush song.
> 
> **Day 3: Phone Sex**

* * *

Jon is in America, alone and weakened. The phone calls come more often than the statements, and they feed a different kind of hunger.

The first time, Jon was so shocked—and terrified, and furious—that he hung up halfway through. The next, he didn’t answer, although Elias rung him back over and over, exquisitely patient. The time after that, he picked up, and he let Elias do what he wanted, though he fought it at every step.

Last night, he didn’t resist. He lay back in the too-firm hotel-room bed, and he let Elias’ voice fill his head, and when he came it was with a soft and helpless sigh: a surrender. He hasn’t slept that well in weeks.

Tonight, Jon calls him. The pleased surprise in Elias’ voice is surely forced—he knew, he must have known—but it still sets a hateful, delicious warmth humming beneath Jon’s skin.

‘I’m touching myself,’ Jon begins, roughly, without preamble. ‘I’m touching my—my cunt. I’m wet already.’

‘I know,’ Elias murmurs. There is a subtle shifting noise, a soft exhale as he takes himself in hand. Jon focuses his attention, very hard, and is gratified with a glimpse of him, sat at his Institute desk as always. The door, Jon is quite certain, is unlocked.

‘Are you touching yourself?’ Jon asks him, though he already knows.

‘Yes. Oh, yes. You look so lovely, Jon, touching your sweet little cock.’

The faint hint of derision in his voice is, as always, enough to make Jon curse beneath his breath. He takes his cock between thumb and forefinger and pinches, hard, unable to stop a moan from escaping him at the excess of pressure.

‘Fuck yourself,’ Elias suggests.

And Jon finds himself sliding fingers inside his cunt—first one, then two, then, somehow, three, and the stretch is painful, but he is _full,_ and all at once he wants this, needs it. ‘Oh,’ he says, his voice breaking, and Elias laughs, almost tenderly.

‘My Archivist. So sweet for me, so obedient, even thousands of miles away.’

‘Fuck you,’ Jon whispers without heat. His hips are bucking in tight, straining thrusts, and he feels himself getting closer, closer, far too quickly. _No,_ he thinks, _no, it’s not fair._ He wants to do to Elias what he has done to him: he wants _him_ to be putty in his hands, to see how it feels, for once.

He stops moving, and focuses all his attention once again: London, the Institute, the Head’s office. Elias in his chair, his head tipped back, a smile curling on his lips as he rubs his thumb over the head of his cock. ‘Is something wrong, Jon?’ he asks, without opening his eyes.

‘You’re trying to make this last,’ Jon says.

‘Perhaps I am.’ He opens his eyes then, and Jon can feel the shock of his gaze. ‘Do you have an objection to that?’

_Yes._ ‘You'll come,’ says Jon, suddenly, forcefully. ‘You'll come, right now, because I want you to.’ He feels the Compulsion humming through him; he feels it leave him in a rush.

Over the phone, a sharp gasp, like air punched from his lungs. Genuine shock: he had not seen this coming. A low moan, then, a silvery sound that makes Jon's blood run cold. ‘Jon,’ breathes Elias. ‘Oh, Jon. You are growing so much stronger.’

Using his powers has brought him back to the edge. ‘Are you going to let me come?’ Jon snaps.

‘My good boy. My wonderful boy. Anything for you.’

Jon comes then, around his own fingers, hissing through clenched teeth. The sound is not Elias’ name, unless it is.

His ears are ringing. Distantly, Elias’ voice reaches him, a caress across oceans: ‘My Jon. My Archivist. You are becoming magnificent.’

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> From the Kinktober 2020 [prompt sheet](https://twitter.com/naughtical_nbd/status/1308904683696783361?s=20) by [naughtical_nbd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naughtical_nbd/pseuds/naughtical_nbd/works). The fics in this series are not related to one another and can be read in any order. They will be posted to a [thread on my Twitter](https://twitter.com/saintmontague/status/1311850471401820161?s=20) as they are updated on AO3.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [like a storm against your windowpane](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28513614) by [faintlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faintlight/pseuds/faintlight)




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